


change of plans

by salticidae



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Clothed Sex, Come Eating, Established Relationship, Lazy Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Xeno, and they like to pull each other's pigtails, they're just bored and horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 08:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20811773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salticidae/pseuds/salticidae
Summary: Red and Purple have better things to do than sit around listening to short people problems. Like each other.





	change of plans

**Author's Note:**

> i needed some fun, non-angsty rapr porn so i blacked out for two days and woke up with a full google doc. enjoy

Red is absolutely sick to death of this room. He's sick of the dirty mauve walls, and the stupid cheery lights, and most of all he's sick of listening to all of his and Purple's slimy advisors drone at them. It's been _days_ of this nonsense. Red checks his internal clock again. It's been six hours, but it's been _days_. Purple is keeping up with their weird jargon only marginally better than he was, and at least that's entertaining on account of them being very aware of Purple's fickleness – the moment he starts looking even a little frustrated they all get spineless and asskissy. 

Purple is the only thing in the room worth paying attention to, anyway. Red's gaze keeps going to his mouth and hands, and suddenly he's reminded of that thing Purple did with them last time they fucked. That was good shit. His eyes go a little unfocused, remembering, and it takes the nearest of his advisors three tries before he registers that the "My Tallest" being called for is him this time. "Uh," he says. Across the table, Purple gives him a sympathetic but dubiously-sincere look. 

"I second whatever he said," Red finally offers, then looks around the room a little more clearly. Actually, fuck this. "Also," he adds, "I'm, uh, calling indefinite snack recess. So everyone shut up and get outta here until we say you can come back." Purple looks like he's two seconds away from dying of laughter before he schools his face back into something mostly appropriate.

"Yeah! You heard him!" The advisors are all obviously upset about this, but they're also all massive sycophants, so they collect their things and file out of the room in short order, bowing and scraping as they go.

Red waits a reasonable amount of time, then nearly drags Purple bodily away from the board room, and after a beat Purple's whole face lights up in mock scandal. "Oh ho," he crows, leaning against Red's grasp just enough to be annoying. "I knew it. Rarl Kove gets you going, huh?"

"Yeah, going _away_ from him," Red says, strained. "Any longer in there and my brain would have exploded." He makes a wet splattering noise with his mouth and dramatically mimes the explosion – imaginary brain goo dribbles out his eyes. Purple cackles, still letting himself be dragged along. 

"We could explode _his_ brain," Purple offers, but Red grimaces.

"I vote we stop talking about him at all," he says. "I had a perfectly good fantasy going that involved your fingers in my mouth, and I'm not going to let him ruin that, too!" Purple hoots behind him, and stage-whispers absurd catcalls as they go.

They find the nearest of their private rooms – nominally a workspace, though the cabinets and drawers are stuffed with snacks – and Purple only just manages to get the door locked and set to Do Not Disturb before Red shoves a hand down his skirt. Purple laughs at him, maybe a little breathy, and leads him over to a bench in increments, pulling away just a little every time Red starts biting at his mouth. Eventually Purple gets himself comfortably seated, Red half-stooping over him with one knee on the bench for optimal kissing leverage. Once they're stationary, Red pushes the advantage, and licks his way into Purple's obliging mouth. It's sufficiently distracting that he forgets about his hand in Purple's skirt, until Purple conspicuously readjusts his hips; Red makes a startled noise against Purple's mouth and tugs his hand free. Purple breaks the kiss to complain, but before he can get a word in, Red drops to his knees and hikes Purple's skirt up to his hips instead. "Oh, well," he says. Red glances up from where he's scraping at Purple's thighs with his teeth. "Carry on." His head lolls back involuntarily; it's hard to stay composed when Red starts mouthing at him through his tights.

This goes on for longer than he was prepared for, until his thighs are trembling and his still very clothed dick is fully everted. "Gh. Get on with it, asshole," he says, digging his heels into Red's neck. Red muffles a laugh in the join of Purple's thighs, then pulls away just long enough to roll his tights down to his ankles. This time, when Red settles back between Purple's thighs, he swallows the whole length of him at once – Purple's legs spasm and he groans, long and breathy. Red works him harder, now, curling his tongue against the base of his dick and drawing it nearly into his throat. He presses the base of his antennae against Purple's abdomen on the downstrokes, scenting deep and drinking in his body's resonance as he babbles praise and invective both.

When Purple starts grabbing antennae and kicking at Red's back in earnest, he switches tactics and buries his face against Purple's vent scales to press all the coils of his tongue against Purple's cock. It's guaranteed to push Purple over the edge – he comes almost immediately afterwards, and Red swallows it all with habitual ease. He licks gently at Purple as he pulls off, tongue mostly flattened. Purple lays boneless for a moment, eyes shut and antennae limp, and Red takes the opportunity to crawl into his lap and softly apply his mouth to Purple's jaw and throat. "You taste so good," he mumbles. "I ever tell you that?" 

"Nuh-uh. Never," Purple says, pitching into a drawl, and cracks one eye open. "Hey, okay. Gimme a sec." He lets Red continue for a while longer, then kicks his tights the rest of the way off – or tries to – he only manages to pull one leg free before giving up, but that's good enough for him. With both his legs usable now, Purple leads Red down onto the bench and underneath him, and fumbles at the catch of Red's skirt. Red's not exactly being _un_cooperative, but he hasn't stopped licking at Purple's face, and in fact is now fondling his antennae in an incredibly distracting manner. Purple shoves at his head in between tugging his skirt off, playing at being annoyed. "Babe, you want me to sit on your dick or not?" Red whines at him, but pulls away from his now thoroughly bruised neck long enough to lift his hips away from the bench so that Purple can properly remove his skirt. He can already feel Red's dick through his tights, and shoves them down just enough to free it, instead of bothering to take them all the way off. 

Purple crowds up against Red's chest and reaches around to tap on one of the access panels on his pak. Red whines at him again, but immediately opens up to deposit a canister of lube in Purple's hand. Purple yanks an antenna in retaliation as he pulls back, rolling his eyes. He leaves his thin gloves on while prepping them both, Red's dick (he dips a finger past it into his vent proper, teasing, and Red hisses) and his own vent, and licks his lips when he catches Red staring, gaze sharp despite his fucked out face. 

He drops the lube when he finishes with it (they'll find it later, probably) and angles Red back just a little more so that he has the clearance to get his hips in position. He grinds briefly against Red, skirt still hiked up, then slides home, letting out a soft hiss as Red's dick catches his own, still sensitive, on the way into his vent.

Purple takes his sweet time with it, rocking slowly down until his hips are pressed against Red's. Red exhales, shaky, and gropes aimlessly at Purple's waist, digging under the straps of his corset to pull him closer. His head rolls back gently, and Purple takes the opportunity to unlatch his chestplate, opening it just enough to pull the collar of his undershirt down so that he can dig his teeth into Red's bare neck. Red's hips jerk, but Purple keeps firm control of the pace; he's savoring this, grinding Red's dick as far into him as possible and contracting the muscles of his vent in waves. They're in no rush, and for now Purple is plenty occupied by marking up Red's neck and collar. Red shudders with effort trying to match Purple's technique, and his hands fall to Purple's thighs, kneading at the thin inner skin. He sinks bonelessly into the bench cushions, and after an indeterminate length of time actually starts to doze.

His whole body jerks in startled reflex when he realizes, almost throwing Purple off the bench. Purple catches himself, then nearly collapses laughing. "You _old man_," he hoots, trying to settle back down in between cackles. Red shoves noncommittally at his face.

"Shut uuuup," he groans. 

"Ugh, does this mean we have to start all over again? I wanted you to come on my face, but if you keep edging me with your old man body I swear—"

"Shut up!" Purple snickers at him again, but scoots lower on the bench so that he can get a hand on Red's dick. He still has his gloves on, and even through the mess the material catches just right against Red when he grinds the heel of his palm down. Red falls back against the cushions, groaning weakly.

"Oh yeah, there we go," Purple says, a touch smug, then leans in to press his mouth against Red's dick. "Hey," he says. "Look at me." Red drags himself up on his elbows with monumental effort, just in time to lock eyes with Purple as he slides both fingers down the length of Red's dick and directly into his vent. Red nearly convulses. "Bitch," Purple says gleefully, and lets Red come in broad wet stripes over his face and antennae.

"Asshole," Red says after a moment, hazy and boneless again. Purple climbs back up over Red, looking very much like the squak that caught the slorbius, and presses his mouth insistently against Red's. When Red opens up into the kiss, though, he gets a mouthful of his own cum. Figures. Purple's always had a Thing about cum in his mouth – but it's not like Red minds humoring him, either. He swallows obligingly, then breaks the kiss to lick the rest of the mess off Purple's face, paying very special attention to the antennae. 

It's Purple's turn to go limp and sated now that he's clean, and he drapes himself heavily on top of Red. "Okay. Now you can go to sleep." Red swats half-heartedly at him, but he's already way ahead of Purple on that count, eyes shut and breath even. 

"Shuddup," he mumbles. "You go… 's beauty rest. Thing." Purple just pats his cheek fondly.

"Yeah, yeah."


End file.
